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A SERMON, 



PREACHED AT THE 



FUNERAL 



OF 



JVATHAWIEI. GROUT, ESQ 



ACWORTH, N. H. 



FEB. 17, 1844. 



6 



BY ROBERT W. FULLER. 






CLAREMONT, N. H. 

POWER PRESS OFFICE N. W. GODDARD, PRINTER. 

1844. 



6: FS 



Acworth, Feb. 26, 1844. 
ev. and Dear Sir:— 

At a regular meeting of the Congregational Church and Society, it 
proposed and voted that a committee be chosen to wait upon the Rev. R. W. 
Fuller, and request of him a copy of a Sermon, for publication, which was delivered 
at the funeral of the late Nathaniel Grout, Esq.— and N. Warner, Z. Slader, and 
W. Prentiss, were chosen a committee for that purpose. 

In pursuance of the above vote, we do most respectfully request a copy of the 
above named Sermon, for the Press. 

In making this request, we are actuated by the affectionate regard we cher- 
ish to the memory of the deceased, and a wish to gratify a large circle of mourners 
and acquaintances. 

Respectfully yours, 



Rev. R. W. Fuller. 



N. WARNER, 
Z. SLADER, 
W. PRENTISS. 



Committee. 



Acworth, Feb. 26, 1844. 

Maj. N. Warner, Dea. Z. Slader, Mr. W- Prentiss,— Committee, &c. 
Gentlemen : — 

While I accede to your request, in furnishing the following hasty 
and imperfect discourse for the press, permif me.'to say, that no other motive than 
a desire to gratify the feelings of numerous, gifltcted relatives and friends of the 
deceased, would have induced me to consent to its publication, 
Respectfully yours, 

R. W. FULLER. 



SERMON. 



JOB XIV. 1. 
" Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble. 



This declaration of pious Job presents a very melancholy view 
human life. But, sad and forbidding as the picture is, the experienc] 
of all, who are born into the world, affords more or less evidence 
its truth. 

The text presents for our consideration, two distinct and sadly ii 
teresting subjects: the shortness of human life, and its afflictions. 

First. It reminds us that life is short. " Man that is born of 
woman is of few days." Few, indeed, are the days of a large pre 
portion of the children of men. 

It has been estimated, that one half of the children born into thj 
world, die in infancy: and, in this country, one half are supposed tj 
die in infancy and childhood. 

In every thirty years, one whole generation of our race are suj 
posed to close their earthly existence : that is, in the period of thirtj 
years, there occur as many deaths in the world, as there are inhabi 
tants living at any one time. 

But to the man of thirty years, as he reviews his past life, how shot] 
does it appear: how few the days! And, even to those whose live| 
are protracted to the age of seventy, and beyond, as, from their a( 
vanced position, they review that period which appeared so long 9 
prospect, it now appears like a dream, "a shadow that declineth,] 
"a vapour that appeareth for a little time and then vanisheth away.i 
Such were the impressions of ancient men. Jacob, after he had live] 
one hundred and thirty years, said, "Few and evil have the days 
the years ot my life been." 



4 

David, also, seems to have had a very affecting view of the short- 
ness of life. He compares it to a "handbreadth," and says, "We 
pend our years as a tale that is told." "As for man, his days are as 
jrass ; as a flower of the field so he flourisheth ; for the wind passeth 
»ver it and it is gone, and the place thereof knoweth it no more." 
These views are in strict accordance with the sentiments of Job, 
s expressed in the text. 

Here, we have the testimony of holy men of old,who "wrote as they 
vere moved by the Holy Ghost :" the language of experience, also, 
rom those who have viewed life as it appears to ripened age. Simi- 
ar is the testimony of all the aged, now. But, to the contemplative 
hristian, who meditates much on eternity, and often contemplates 
his short life in comparison with that endless existence which awaits 
nen beyond the grave, life appears peculiarly short. 

And what is the longest life ever spent by mortal here, compared 
vith an eternal existence ? A drop may be compared with the aggre- 
ated waters of the ocean ; for the drops of the ocean are all number- 
d by Him, " who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his 
and." A grain of sand may be compared with the globe; for the 
rains of the earth are numbered by Him, " who hath comprehen- 
ed the dust of the earth in a measure, weighed the mountains in 
:ales, and the hills in a balance." But an age bears no comparison 
rith eternity ; the ages of eternity are numberless. And how often 
re we reminded that life is not only comparatively short, but, other- 
vise, uncertain! 

To the mind of God, it is true nothing is uncertain. All future 
vents are, in his mind, fixed and sure. He workethnot, like man, 
ften, through sudden impulse, and without consideration or previous 
esign ; but "He worketh all things after the counsel of his own 
rill;" in accordance with his sovereign and eternal purpose; and 
rith a full view of the end from the beginning. 

In regard to human life, "He hath determined the times before ap- 
ointed, and the bounds of their habitation." But, for wise reasons, 
le has kept the times of men's dissolution with those secret things 
'hich are not revealed. He has taught us, both by his word and 
rovidence, that "it is appointed unto men once to die;" but at what 
tage of life, whether in childhood, or youth, or at life's meridian, 
r in old age, He has not revealed: neither the month, the week, 
or yet the day : — neither the hour ; whether at even, or at midnight, 
r at the cock crowing, or in the morning, or at some other hour. 



Nor can the time be ascertained ; until the mystery is solved by the I 
actual occurrence of the event. 

When we view the bud upon the tree, who can, with certainty, 
predict that it will ever blossom ? An egg, concealed in its bosom, 
may even now be bursting with the worm that is to prey upon its 
vitals, and destroy its life, before it shall have had time to unfold its 
hidden beauties. 

When we look upon the beautiful blossom, who can say that the 
insect, or the frost, or the mildew, or the blasting wind will not des- 
troy it; or the rude hand of violence pluck it, ere the fruit shall 
appear? ' 

So, when we see the fruit beginning to develope itself, we cannot 
assure ourselves that the rude storm will not sever it from the bough ; 
or a worm, at the core, cause its stem to wither, and bring it to the I 
earth, before it shall have ripened to maturity. Fit emblems of 
human life ! 

Behold the lovely infant : there is life in the bud. Who can as- 
sure me, that seeds of mortal disease are not sown in its bosom, 
which are destined to destroy its life, ere it bloom in youthful 
beauty ? 

And who can tell whether yonder joyous mortal, whose cheek 
blushes with the glow of youth, and whose eye sparkles with its fire,; 
will live to develope the fruits of maturer life ? Some hidden cause 
may even now exist, some train of circumstances may be in motion, i 
destined to bring him to an early grave. 

And how frequently does the voice of Providence remind us, that" 
the vigor of mid-life furnishes no sure protection against the shafts of 
death. And, often is man's short life brought to a close, at a time' 
and in a manner, most unexpected. 

Although God effects the death of men through the agency of nat-' 
ural causes, yet, in many instances, the cause is so stealthy and 
rapid in its operation as scarcely to produce any alarm, until it. 
has completed its work. Not unfrequently is its very existence on*] 
supected until it has already accomplished its dreadful office, and: 
left the palid countenance, the glassy eye and the breathless frame, ' 
to make the first revelation concerning it. Such was the character! 
of his summons, whose sudden departure we are called this day to 
mourn. On the day preceding that of his death, he was abroad, ac-; 1 
live, and in apparent health. At the close of that day, he disclosed, 
to a neighbor his plans for a month to come, embracing a large 
amount of business, which appeared to him necessary to be accom- 



plished, and which he designed and expected to accomplish, in that 
space of time. 

On the last day which he was to behold in this world, although 
during the previous night, he had experienced slight symptoms of 
disease, and also in the morning, yet, not alarmed, he resumed his 
wonted activity : little suspecting that he was treading so near the 
brink of eternity ! While busy, here and there, attending to the 
duties of the day, he was seen, at one moment, in the store with his 
ordinary smile, exchanging friendly salutations with a neighbour — 
five minutes from that time, he having returned to his house, his 
spirit had bid farewell to its house of clay, until the resurrection morn, 
and taken its flight to its eternal home ! 

Thus, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, all unexpected to 
himself and to others, he was hurried away. Thus uncertain is life, 
as well as short; and liable to be closed at any unexpected moment. 

But the text reminds us that man's short life is burdened with 
affliction : that his days are not only few, but full of trouble. To 
the youth, life, in anticipation, presents flattering prospects, cheering 
promises. It appears to him widely different from a scene of trouble 
and sorrow. Thus far in life, he has enjoyed the protection of pa- 
rent or guardian ; his wants have been supplied, chiefly, by the toil 
and care of others ; and he has scarcely begun to taste of the bitter 
draught of mingled cares, anxieties, disappointments, pains and griefs, 
which constitute so large a share of the experience of life. To him, 
the prospect appears unobscured by the dark clouds of adversity ; and 
the sun of prosperity appears to beam brightly upon his future path. 
Forgetting that he lives in a world of sin, and, consequently, a world 
of suffering, he looks forward in anticipation of many long and happy 
years of uninterrupted enjoyment. But notwithstanding the flatter- 
ing prospects and joyous hopes of youth, all find, as they progress in 
life, that this is a world of trouble. 

The external sources of affliction are numerous. As men become 
engaged in the active business of life, they are frequently harrassed 
with perplexing cares, which rob them of their peace and of their 
rest. Often do they suffer, in their property, their reputation and 
their feelings, by the unruly tongues, the selfishness, the dishonesty 
of others. Many a heart is pierced with daggers, by the treachery of 
supposed friends, and the ingratitude of those befriended. And, to 
how many is life rendered a bitter dreg, by the neglect and cruelty of 
those from whom they had reason to expect sympathy, protection 
and support. 



How numerous are the unhappy victims of suffering poverty and I 
want. Many of this class once abounded in temporal goods, and ex- 1 
pected always thus to abound. Others, though poor in early life> I 
yet were cheered with the hope, that, by virtue of industry and good 
management, they should secure to themselves an abundance for 
coming years : and the cup of poverty has become more bitter for the 
disappointment. 

And who can estimate the amount of suffering which results from I 
bodily disease? How few the families, which, for any considerable 
length of time, are entirely exempted from the visits of sickness I 
And what painful watchings, what anxiety and distress, do these 
afflictive visitations of Providence bring, not only to the sick, but to 
their relatives ? 

But one of the most severe trials of this life, is the loss of beloved | 
friends by death. The bonds of natural affection which unite the 
hearts of near relatives, ore strong, and not sundered without the most 
exquisite pain. The relationship subsisting between brothers and 
sisters, is very endearing; and the pain of separation by death, is not 
to be described, neither imagined, by those who have not experi- 
enced it. The relationship subsisting between parents and children 
is still more tender, and a separation by death still more distressing to 
the survivor : especially , if the survivor be a parent. How many days 
of mourning, and nights of sleepless grief, have been experienced by 
bereaved parents, who, like Jacob, refused to be comforted, is known 
to God only. We have all witnessed their sorrow; and many, 
whom I now address, have themselves experienced it. But the most 
endearing of all earthly ties, is that which subsists between husband' 
and wife. They are emphatically one. Their interests are one : they 
share, in common, their mutual joys and sorrows, their hopes and 
fears, their burdens and their cares. Greatly do they depend on each' 
other for sympathy, cousel and consolation. When these tender 
bands are sundered by the ruthless hand of death, a wound is 
inflicted in the heart of the survivor, which the tenderest sympathies' 
and kindest attentions of friendship have no power to heal ; and the 
pain of which can be assuaged only by time and the consolations of 
religion. 

These are some of the outward afflictions to which the children of 
men are exposed, in this short life. And the unhappiness arising 
from these sources, is greatly augmented by the sinful affections and 
flnhallowed passions often cherished in their own breasts. Covetous-* 
ness, pride, worldly ambition, envy, jealousy, hatred, malice and 



8 

nameless unhallowed lusts, all the natural progeny of human depravi- 
ty, too often find a home in the human heart, and riot there; 
destroying the tranquility of the soul, and causing it to pierce itself 
through with many arrows. These inward foes often conspire with 
outward afflictions, to fill up man's days with trouble. 

How many there are who, like Job, find this life to be full of 
trouble ; and who, with an afflicted man of a later age, could, with 
deep emotion, exclaim, "This is indeed a miserable world — how 
fitly termed a vale of tears." 

Permit me, now, to call your attention to some reflections, which 
seem to be suggested by the melancholy subjects brought to view in 
this discourse ; and by the solemn event of divine providence which 
called for it. 

First. Since all the trouble and suffering experienced in this world, 
is caused by sin, how ought we to abhor it : and how guilty and 
unreasonable are we, .if we continue to practice and encourage it. Is 
it sin which has ruined our race— changed mankind from a race of 
holy and happy beings, reflecting the image of their Maker, blessed 
with his constant smile of approbation, with constant communion 
with him and uninterrupted freedom from all evil — to a race of 
(polluted, guilty, miserable beings — in mad rebellion against their 
Maker — objects of his loathing, and subjects of nis sore displeasure ? 
Has sin cursed man's fair heritage, and changed it, from a fruitful and 
delightful Eden, to a heritage of thorns and briers ? Has it filled this 
world with darkness, guilt, sighs, tears, sickness, pain, death, and 
peopled the world of despair with lost and wretched spirits ? How 
ought we to hate it ! How unreasonable are we if we continue to 
indulge and encourage it ! 

Second. Since this short life is so "full of trouble," men need the 
consolations of religion, to sustain them. Though some may, for a 
time, escape grievous afflictions, they cannot reasonably expect always 
to escape. The time will doubtless come, when trouble and distress 
will visit them : when those earthly sources of happiness on which 
they now depend, will fail them ; and, earthly afflictions will come 
flowing in upon them, like an overwhelming flood. Then, if they 
have no other support than earth can yield, their souls will be 
desolate. 

But those, who through Christ have become reconciled to God, 
and have placed their affections on things above, will in the day of 
affliction have a sure support. When the storms of adversity shall 
beat on them, and the waves of sorrow threaten to overwhelm them > 



$ 

they can fly, for refuge, to the bosom of their Saviour. There, the£ 
tian find protection, support, sympathy, consolation. ^Resting 
upon the "Rock of Ages" with heaven opening to the eye of faith> 
they can, with holy resolution and cheerful courage, say, "Let the 
billows roar :" or, with meek and humble submission, exclaim, "The 
cup that my heavenly Father giveth me, shall I not drink it?" Yes, 
"though he afflict me, still will I rejoice in him; though he slay 
toe, yet will I trust in him." 

Rich and abumdant are the consolations which religion affords, in 
affliction. Precious are its promises, to the believing and submissive 
mourner. Though every earthly friend be taken from him, his best 
friend, — his friend in heaven— a friend almighty to protect, with a 
heart rilled with everlasting love— with bowels of infinite compassion, 
and with grace abundant, to sanctify, to comfort and to save — this 
Mend still remains. 

Though riches have taken to themselves wings, and flown away* 
his treasure laid up in heaven, remains secure. He has a glorious 
mansion prepared for him there— "an inheritance," there, "incorrup- 
tible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away:" and his title to that 
inheritance is secured by the immutable promise of God. 

Is he prostrated by sickness— he has the assurance of present 
support and sympathy from his Saviour; and expects soon to put 
eff this mortal body, and be clothed with immortality: when God 
shall wipe all tears from his eyes; "and there shall be no more deaths 
neither sorrow nor crying; neither shall there be any more pain. 
Thus, abundant and precious are the consolations which religion 
Is capable of affording in affliction. 

My fellow mortals, is not this what we shall all need in the day oi 
affliction ? Where else shall we look for support, when every earthly 
source of comfort shall fail us, and the waves of sorrow shall roll 
their bitter waters over us? O, if then, we be found strangers to God 
and the consolations of religion, how desolate will be our hearts! 
Do we not need religion notbl How many a sad and sinful heart is 
there present to-day, which begins to feel the emptiness of earth ; and. 
to long for the consolations of forgiven sin, and a good hope of hea^ 
ven : and how many others, who will long for those consolations^ 
when it will be too late to secure them ! 

Third. Since life is so short, the whole of it affords none too much 
time to prepare for death and heaven. 

This will appear, if we consider, for a single moment, the work tc 
be done, and the vast interests depending. We are transgressors o« 



10 

the law of God; and, as such, are under condemnation to eternal 
death. We must obtain pardon — become justified before his bar, or 
sink, under his dreadful curse, to endless ruin. We have a sinful 
moral nature — hearts unholy y opposed to God, unfitted for his service? 
too vile for him to look upon but with loathing. And we have sinful 
habits, perhaps, which have grown strong by long continued indul- 
gence. These sinful natures must be regenerated; these unholy 
hearts sanctified; these sinful habits subdued, and repugnance to 
religious duty overcome. While, on the other hand, holy affections 
are cultivated; habits of self-denying obedience formed, and the 
temper of Christ — the spirit of heaven, acquired. This is the work 
necessary to be done to prepare us for a peaceful death and a holy 
heaven. And this work must be done, before our dying hour , or it will 
remain undone, forever. 

And it is for eternity ! Yes, my dying hearers, you and I are during 
this short and uncertain life, so large a portion of which is already 
past, to make our only, our final preparation for eternity. Our state, 
when we shall awake from the exhaustion and darkness of the death- 
struggle, in the world of spirits, and thenceforth forever, will depend 
on the character of the preparation we shall have made while living. 
How great the work which needs to be done ! What infinite inter- 
ests are depending ! How short the time for its accomplishment! Tell 
me my hearers, is the whole of life too long for the faithful performance 
of such a work ? 

When we come to look forward from a dying bed into eternity, (if 
ndeed, God shall grant us the privilege, denied to many, of a dying 
Ded, and the power of reason there,) we shall want something more 
ban a feeble, trembling hope, snatched up amidst the alarms, the fears, 
he pains, the exhaustion, the haste of a final sickness. Who would 
yish to go into eternity, with no better preparation than this ? Neither, 
ny hearer, would you wish to die, with no better earnest of heaven 
han an old hope, which had long been resting in the mind, through 
legl'ect, well nigh buried under the rubbish of worldly thoughts and 
iffections, and all but destroyed by the reproaches of a guilty conscience. 
>fo! struggling and tossed, amidst the billows of death, you will want 
i hope which, entering "through the veil" and taking fast hold of the 
hrone of God, will prove "an anchor to the soul sure and steadfast," 
nd so, hold you, in full view of Christ and heaven until the storm is 
iushed, the struggle over, and you are landed on the shores of the 
>lessed. Such a hope, in a dying hour is worth a whole life of prayer- 
id and self-denying effort. Such a nope can only be made sure of in 
dying hour, by a previous life of consistent piety. 



11 

But, while I take occasion, from my subject, to urge upon this audi- 
ence the duty, the infinite importance of a timely preparation for death, 
it will, probably, be expected that I shall say something concerning 
hina whose sudden and unexpected decease has occassioned our solemn 
assemblage this day. 

The deceased was born in Grafton, Mass. and, at the age of five years, 
with his father's family, became an inhabitant of this town. At an early 
age, he engaged in the mercantile business in this place, in which 
business he continued forty years, and relinquished it between four 
and five years ago. 

Perhaps it does not become one, who was, but so recently, a stranger 
to Mr. Grout, and to this whole assembly, to speak of his character. 
Yet, I have been his neighbor long enough to learn something of his 
character, by reputation, and something of his views and feelings, from 
personal intercourse. Shall I not be justified, by facts known to most 
of this audience, in saying, that the departed sustained a character for 
uniform and strict veracity, and for perfect uprightness and integrity 
in his dealings — that he was emphatically an honest man — that he pos- 
sessed a large degree of public spirit and benevolence ; contributed, 
liberally and uniformly, to the support of the gospel, and the institutions 
of religion; and, in various ways made himself beneficial to society 1 
™£ay I not also safely say, that by his candor, his humble and unas- 
suming deportment, and his uniform and unaffected kindness, he had 
secured the universal esteem and respect of the community, and the 
ardent friendship of many ? These things I do venture to say : and 
I say them without fear of their correctness being called in question. 

It would, doubtless, be gratifying to many in this assembly, to 
know what were the views and feelings of the deceased, in reference 
to the great and important subject of religion. Although he never 
made a public profession of religion and was inclined to avoid 
conversing on his private religious feelings, I rejoice that I am able to 
communicate some interesting facts, concerning his religious character, 
which have come to my knowledge, partly from his own lips, and partly 
from other sources equally authentic. 

At the time the corner-stone of this house was laid, Mr. Grout received 
<3eep religious impressions, which, it is believed, were never erased from 
his mind. Not far from that time, there was evidence, from expression? 
which escaped from his lips, that he had deep and distressing convic- 
tions of sin ; so that, for the time, he almost despaired of mercy. During 
the work of grace which was enjoyed in this place, soon afterwards. 
his views of religious truth became essentially changed ; he became 



I 

12 



reconciled to the doctrine of the divine sovereignty in the dispensation 
of grace, to which he had before felt strongly opposed ; and his feelings 
towards religious subjects, became materially altered. 

The change, which then took place in his religious views and feel- 
ings, seems to have been permanent. He has, from that time, uniformly 
manifested a love for divine truth, a peculiar regard for the people of 
God, for the prosperity of the church of Christ, and the honor of religion. 
He has exhibited a lively interest in every thing connected with the 
prosperity of religion in the place, and has been ready to contribute of 
his time and property to promote it.* 

The bible has been, for years, his daily companion, and much of his 
Qther reading was such, as the christian would esteem choice food for 
the soul. His daily deportment in the family was such, that judicious 
christians, who have been residents in his family, from time to time,, 
have believed him to be at heart a christian. 

He repeatedly told the speaker, during the last few months of his 
ife, that he had, for years, maintained the habit of secret prayer ; and 
lad indulged the hope that he had experienced a change of heart. It 
s believed that he was prevented from making a public profession of 
•eligion, partly, at least, by a natural diffidence and self-distrust, which 
le exhibited in other departments of human action as well as in that 
embracing religious duty. But, from remarks made by himself, it is 
supposed that he cherished the hope and the intention, of making a. 
>ublic acknowledgement of Christ as his Lord and Saviour, before 
lis death ; and was waiting only to obtain clearer evidence of his ac- 
ceptance in Christ, and a greater degree of confidence in himself. 

From all these facts, we take encouragement to hope, that our 
departed friend was a subject of renewing grace, and now rests in 
he bosom of his Saviour. Yet, how would it have confirmed the 
lopes ol his christian friends, concerning him ; and how would it 
lave rejoiced their hearts, had he exhibited such decision, in regard 
p the public duties of religion, that it could have been said of him, 
iuring his last years, u He walked in all the commandments and 
irdinances of the Lord blameless." 

But let us now divert our thoughts from the dead, to the living* 
Since we live in a world of trouble, and are all liable to be visited 
vith sudden and heavy afflictions, we should sympathize in each 
•ther's sorrows, and help to bear each other's burdens. We should 

* This interest he manifested in the disposal of his property, by will. On ex- 
rnination of his will, it is found that he has left a legacy of $1000 to the Con- 
relational society in Acworth, to aid in sustaining the gospel, 



13 



carry the case of afflicted friends to God, and implore for them that I 
spiritual strength and consolation, which they so much need. May 
I not assure to this bereaved widow, and to this circle of mourners, 
the heartfelt and united sympathy of this great congregation ? 

Seldom have mourners a stronger claim for sympathy, if we 
consider the greatness of their loss as a ground for such a claim, than 
have those before me. And, may I not add, that seldom is there an 
instance, in which a community is so well prepared to sympathize 
with a circle of mourners, as is this community on the present 
occasion. I have felt, while addressing this assembly, that I was 
addressing a congregation of mourners. Although the departed had 
no natural children, to be afflicted by his death, yet, to how many 
of those before me had he been a father. Though he has left no 
natural brothers to mourn his loss, how many of his townsmen have 
experienced from him, the sympathy and kindness of a brother. And 
how many by this afflictive providence, are called to mourn the loss of 
a kind and faithful neighbor and friend : and one peculiarly valuable in 
these relations, from the fact that he was always kind and faithful. 
And have not the whole community occasion for mourning, in the 
loss of one whose influence contributed largely to the morality, peace 
and good order of society ; and who might with propriety be termed 
a public benefactor ? 

But there is one who has a peculiar claim upon our sympathy : and 
who, as allusion has been made to the sorrow of others, may have 
been applying to herself the language of the ancient church in afflic- 
tion : " Behold and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow 
which is done unto me, wherewith the hand of the Lord hath afflicted 
me." God, in his mysterious but righteous providence, has, my dear 
madam, indeed afflicted you. In the sudden and unexpected 
removal of your kind, affectionate and faithful husband, he has laid 
his afflictive hand heavily upon you. With afflicted Job, you may 
well exclaim : — " Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, ye my 
friends; for the hand of the Lord hath touched me." While we 
most tenderly sympathize with you on this occasion, we rejoice that 
we can point you to a Friend who, not only has a human heart that 
can be touched with the feeling of your griefs and infirmities, but 
has almighty grace to sustain and comfort you. He knows your 
sorrows, and invites you to him. Though earthly friend and helper 
fail, " He is a very present- help in trouble." As he said to his 
ancient servant, so he says to you, "My grace is sufficient for thee." 
And he also says. " Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he will 



14 

sustain thee." Look to him, then, for support, for guidance, for 
sympathy, for consolation. When oppressed with a burden of 
sorrow, you know not how to bear, look with the eye of submissive 
faith to him. He will give you present strength and peace ; and 
will make your very afflictions, which, at present, are so grievous, 
work out for you "the peaceable fruits of righteousness." 

And I would direct these afflicted sisters of the deceased,with their 
companions, to Him who mingled his tears of sympathy with those 
of Mary and Martha, over the grave of their only brother. Though 
the compassionate Jesus may not, now, as then, restore the dead to 
life, he still has a heart to sympathize with his followers, in their 
affliction, and is not ashamed even to be called their brother. 

Though your last brother "according to the flesh," has now been 
removed from you, the Friend of Mary and Martha is unchangeable' 
"A friend" is he, "who sticketh closer than a brother. 11 And surely, 
he who, while on earth, wept with the afflicted, poured consolation 
into every wounded bosom, and "healed all the broken hearts he 
found," will not, now, send away unblest, the mourner who looks 
to him for sympathy and support. 

And I would impress upon the minds of the more distant relatives, 
the admonition which God seems to be giving them, in this solemn 
providence, to detach their affections from earth and look upward : 
to cease from creatures and seek their portion in God and heaven, 
while they may. To those who, though they claim another paren- 
tage, spent their early years under the roof of the deceased, and 
there shared his paternal bounty, and experienced from him paternal 
affection and care, his death will, doubtless, be regarded as a great 
affliction ; and his memory cherished with grateful affection, — 
Happy will it be for them, if this bereavement shall lead them to 
seek an acquaintance with God — become the dear children of his 
adoption, and secure an interest in his paternal and everlasting love. 

I behold, in this assembly, some aged men, who were neighbors, 
companions, friends of the deceased, in early life; and who have 
lived to grow old with him, and to survive him. You, doubtless, my 
aged and respected friends, also feel his sudden removal to be an 
affliction. May you not also regard it, as the voice of your God and 
Judge, speaking in accents of awful solemnity to you, and saying, 
" Be ye also ready ! v Some of you, perhaps, have not given suitable 
heed to God's former calls : you feel unprepared for your final 
summons. Will you listen to this warning from God's providence ? 
It probably is, to some of you, the last call. You can never have a 



15 

louder one — you may never have another, until called by death, into 
the presence of a just and holy God ! Will you not regard this 
solemn warning, and try to get ready? Will you not divest yourselves 
of all worldliness, prejudice and unbelief, and spend your few 
remaining days in seeking the salvation of your souls, and living for 
heaven ? Think of it, aged men, think of it! This may be your 
last call. Take heed to it, obey it, and you may, yet, by the grace 
of God, be prepared to die in Christ, and find rest in heaven. But 
heed it not, and God may say, " Because I have called and ye have 
refused, I have stretched out my hand and ye have not regarded, I 
also will laugh at your calamity and mock when your fear cometh." 
Then shall ye say, " The harvest is past, the summer is ended and 
we are not saved." 

There are individuals before me, who have long been indulging a 
hope of salvation, founded on a belief that they have experienced 
renewing grace, and are acknowledged by Christ as his disciples, 
but who have, hitherto, neglected to confess Christ before the world, 
and to obey his dying command. Yet they hope to obey these plain 
injunctions, before they die. So, doubtless, hoped our departed 
friend. But, now, he will never have an opportunity to perform 
those duties. How long, my friends, will you try the forbearance of 
God, by your disobedience ? What is the language of God's provi- 
dence to you this day? 

My hearers, is not God teaching us, all, our dependence upon his 
sovereign will for the continuance of our life, and saying to each of 
us, " Do with thy might what thy hand findeth to do," to prepare 
thee for death and heaven ; lest thy summons find thee unprepared, 
and thy state become fixed in the world of anguish : and a great 
ransom shall not deliver thee ! 



